Together
by verisimiliitude
Summary: The thing Sherlock needs most is John. Rated M for heavy implications now and possible graphic-ness later.


Dr. John Watson opened the door to 221B Baker Street, and almost collided with Ms. Hudson.

"Oh, Doctor, thank god you're here! Mr. Holmes refuses to let me into his rooms. Perhaps you could persuade him otherwise?" Watson sighed. "How long has he been in there?""Oh, since you last came to visit." Watson groaned. Two weeks, he had been preoccupied with Mary and finishing he and Holmes's last case. Now his friend was rotting away in his room. Watson nodded and walked upstairs to his friend's rooms. He knocked on the door, but when no reply came, he merely opened the door and let himself in. The room was nearly pitch black, and smelled of dust and tobacco. "Holmes?" Watson called, tentatively walking a few steps into the room. Then, with a small yell, The doctor tripped over something and landed face-first on the floor. "Holmes!" Watson sat up to see he had tripped over the body of his friend. "Holmes, wake up. What are you doing on the floor?" After a few seconds, Sherlock sat up and looked around blearily. "Ah, hello, Watson. So good of you to come check on me."

"What on Earth have you been doing in here?" Watson demanded. "And why were you on the floor?"

"Well, as you took Gladstone away from me, I needed someone to test my experiments on, didn't I? I was the only option - no one else is willing to do it. This one went a little awry, but nothing serious."

Watson stood up and straightened his jacket. "This room is filthy. Get up. When is the last time you've eaten anything?" "I can't recall...food is of little importance to me," Holmes replied, running a hand through his hair. Watson snorted. After extinguishing the tiny fire in the grate with some liquid found in a cup, he strode over to the covered windows. "No, Watson, be gentle with me-" Holmes began, before Watson threw back the curtains, letting the blinding sunlight in. Holmes shrieked and covered his face with his hands. Watson surveyed the room and thought about putting the curtains back in place - food and trash and papers with writing were on every available surface. "Be gentle with you?"

Watson gave a short, barking laugh. "You're living in a hovel. I think you require something that is the complete opposite of gentle." From where he had crumpled on the floor, Holmes looked up at Watson. "It's been a long while since I heard you say that to me." Watson sighed. "Holmes, I didn't mean...I'm engaged." Holmes pushed himself onto all fours and crawled over to where Watson stood. "John, please," Holmes whispered. "I need you. You have no idea what it is like to be isolated in my own mind without you here." Watson looked down at his friend...his...old lover and felt his resolve crumble. He pulled Holmes to his feet and kissed him gently. Without waiting a second, Holmes kissed back fiercely, crushing their bodies and mouths together, desperate for contact. Watson pulled away, shocked at the forwardness of Holmes but mostly afraid at what that ferociousness had done to him. With that one heated kiss, The doctor could feel all his blood rushing south. Holmes's eyes had quickly become feral with lust.

"Come to bed with me," he growled. "Right now?" Watson asked. Holmes nodded, then leaned in to kiss Watson once again, hooking a hand onto the Doctor's belt and pulling him to bed hidden behind a curtain. Holmes nearly threw Watson onto the bed as he quickly pulled his clothes off. "Are you in a hurry?" Watson said jokingly. "I...need to touch you. Immediately," Holmes replied, climbing on top of Watson and biting his neck lightly. The doctor gasped with the small amount of pain, but pulled Holmes closer to him. As Holmes continued to bite his neck, Watson ran a hand through his lover's hair. "I've missed this," he said quietly. Holmes sat up and looked at Watson. "Watson. You cannot even begin to understand all the feelings I am having at this very moment, but if I had to settle on one it would be the desire to ravish you. Then I will be free to..be more loving. But first let me take care of myself..." Watson slipped off his jacket, unbuttoned his shirt and pants, and with a little wiggling, was just as naked as Holmes. "I'm here now, Sherlock. Ravish me if you will."

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guys I'm sorry I'm such a tease. If this gets positive reviews, I will consider writing a second part! If not, this is it ;)


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